


Tell Me Something

by XYDamianKane



Series: Kinktober 2019 [8]
Category: DCU, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Bisexuality, Camboy Dick Grayson, Exhibitionism, Kinktober 2019, Masturbation, Other, Sex Toys, Sex Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 21:40:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20955329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XYDamianKane/pseuds/XYDamianKane
Summary: Dick Grayson puts the bait in masturbate (or, Nightwing does cam work for The Cause).





	Tell Me Something

Day 8: Jealousy/Possessiveness | Menstruation | **Solo/Masturbation** | Feederism/Foodplay

* * *

Dick breathes in deep before he starts the stream, just to get it out of his system.

“Hi again, everybody. I know the voice modulator situation isn’t ideal, but I had a pretty close call the other day. Let’s keep this between us, yeah?”

Dick forces out a laugh. The modulator crunches it into a truly unsexy sound in his headphones. His eyes flick to the chat and he smiles.

“Yes, I suppose it’s sexy to some of my sweet patrons. Glad it floats your boat, uh, _letmerubyou96_. Thank you, really, and thank you for your tip. Are the music levels good for everyone?” 

The chat bubbles up with a dozen different answers. He compromises and turns it down a little bit.

“Hopefully that’s better. Let’s get started, shall we? A lady friend of mine roughed me up pretty good yesterday, so I thought I’d play with my Fleshlight for you guys.”

By lady friend, he means both Roy and Wally. The image he paints of himself ("reluctantly bicurious", as opposed to "long-time practicing bisexual manslut") nets a few more views, what can he say.

He wriggles out of dark wash jeans and his briefs before he sits back down, making sure he’s centered in frame. He spreads his legs and grabs the lube bottle and toy off his desk.

It’s still a little cool when he lowers it over his cock, and it makes him gasp. He’s sure to aim it towards the mic. 

He holds it about halfway down, and slowly thrusts up the rest of the way. He’s sure to tense his thigh muscles.

His set-up avoids his face for obvious reasons, but it truly serves two purposes. He doesn’t have to perform with his face-- he’s sure his eyes staring intently at the chat window as it scrolls ever downwards wouldn’t be particularly sexy to anyone. 

He waits for a few of his regulars--Jesus Christ, he has _ regulars_\-- to tip before he lets himself moan out loud.

So maybe he’s trying to classically condition his patronage. Who’s going to call him on it? Correlation and causation seem pretty hard to tease out in this absolutely ridiculous context.

He has yet to see a certain patron’s name pop up--the username changes every time, but it’s always eight letters long, formatted in a way that makes him think it’s different encryptions of a date.

(He has suspicions about who it might be--there are lots of reasons to over-tip that noticeably, he’s sure, but something about it sticks in him, familiar.)

The sound of him fucking the toy is obscenely loud in the room, but his audio levels look fine.

He’s getting close, and speeds up a bit, and the melodic rush of an uptick in tips sounds in his headphones. 

He holds it still and fucks up into it, tensing his muscles the way his partners normally like.

He holds out until he hears the noises slow down, then lets himself moan and stutter and cum. He shakes and twitches through the aftershocks, and pulls off the toy. 

He laughs, a little hysterically, at the flood of praise rolling in. 

“Sure seems like everyone had fun. You know where to find me, so: same time next week?” he shoots finger guns at the camera and signs off.

He’s disassembling the Fleshlight to clean it when his screen blinks and dissolves into static.

“Good show,” says an artificially deep-pitched voice from his speakers. Dick rolls his eyes and hopes Babs can see it.

“Yeah, yeah. Flatterer.”

“I’ve sent you the file and pulled a few interesting IPs of note. One from the House of Representatives--you’re really moving up in the world.”

“For a _ live feed_? Brave. Thank you, O.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Oracle, out.”

That’s cryptic--though, sometimes Babs just likes to be ominous.

It’s probably nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> The number of older gentlemen in Dick's life who would obsessively encode significant dates within their username to view his camboy career is...far too high. Choose your own adventure.
> 
> There are implications here that this could be from a real casefic but...it's just not realistic.


End file.
